My Rival, My Only Hope

On my birthday, my mother told me it was time to choose a fiancé from New York's most eligible bachelors. She urged me to pick Alexander Booth, the man I loved with a foolish passion in my previous life.

But I remembered how that love story ended. On the eve of our wedding, Alexander faked his death in a private jet crash.

I spent years as his grieving fiancée, only to find him alive and well on a beach, laughing with the poor student I had personally sponsored. They even had a child.

When I confronted him, our friends-the men who had pretended to comfort me-held me down.

They helped Alexander throw me into the ocean and watched from the pier as I drowned.

As the water closed over my head, only one person showed any real emotion. My childhood rival, Darrian Golden, screamed my name as they held him back, his face twisted in grief. He was the only one who cried at my funeral.

Opening my eyes again, I was back in our penthouse, just a week before the big decision. This time, when my mother asked me to choose Alexander, I gave her a different name. I chose the man who mourned me. I chose Darrian Golden.

Chapter 1

"Just one week until your birthday, Azalea. You know what that means." My mother, Emilee Wallace, sipped her tea, her eyes fixed on me from across the polished mahogany table.

The afternoon sun streamed into our New York penthouse, but I felt none of its warmth. This was my second chance, and I would not waste it.

"It's time to choose," she continued, her voice light but firm. "Alexander, Alaric, Darrius, Jefferey, or Darrian. Their mothers are all waiting."

I stared out the window, the city a blur. A coldness spread through me, a stark contrast to the lavish room. It was a memory-not a dream, but a life I had already lived and lost.

In my last life, I chose Alexander Booth. I loved the charming tech mogul with a blind, foolish passion. But on the eve of our wedding, his private jet "crashed" with no survivors. I spent years as the grieving fiancée, a broken woman clinging to a ghost, while his friends-Alaric Lambert, Darrius Montgomery, and Jefferey Gibson-pretended to be my devoted suitors, holding my hand and offering their shoulders to cry on. They were all liars.

Eventually, a whisper of a lead took me to a secluded coastal town, where I found him. Alexander was alive and well, laughing on a sunny beach with Isolde Booker-the poor, brilliant student I had personally sponsored. They even had a child. When I confronted them, their shock quickly turned to cold fury. My "friends" appeared, not to help me, but to help him silence me for good.

They dragged me onto a boat. "A boating accident," they'd call it. I remembered the cold water closing over my head, their blank faces watching from the pier as I drowned. Only one person had shown any real emotion. Darrian Golden, my childhood rival, had followed me there. As they held him back on the shore, he screamed my name, his face twisted in grief. He was the only one who cried at my funeral.

That death, that horrifying end, was not my final chapter. It was my second chance.

"Azalea? Did you hear me?" my mother asked, her patience thinning.

I turned from the window. I looked at her, my well-meaning mother, so caught up in tradition and appearances.

"I've made my decision," I said. My voice was calm, a dead flat line.

She smiled, relieved. "Wonderful. Is it Alexander? His mother will be thrilled."

"No."

Her smile faltered. "Oh. Alaric, then? Or Darrius?"

"No."

My mother put her teacup down with a sharp clink. "Azalea, what is this about? Not Jefferey... surely not Darrian?" Her voice was a mix of disbelief and frustration. "You and Darrian can't stand each other. He's nothing like the others."

A small, bitter smile touched my lips. "You're right. He's nothing like the others."

My mother stared at me, her face pale with shock. "You can't be serious."

"I am." I had chased a lie while surrounded by snakes. I ignored the only person whose feelings were real. I had been so stupid. So blind.

"He's the one I want," I said. "He's currently in Europe on business, isn't he?"

My mother nodded numbly.

"I need you to call him personally," I instructed. "Tell him to come back. Tell him I've chosen him to be my fiancé."

A call from my mother, the head of the Wallace-Kidd dynasty, was an order he couldn't ignore. It was a power move, and it was the only way.

"But... Azalea..."

"Do it," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.

She stared at me for a long moment, seeing a hardness in my eyes she had never seen before. Finally, she nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Alright. I'll call him."

As she left, I walked to the fireplace. On the mantel was a framed photo of me and Alexander smiling at a charity gala. Without a second thought, I threw it into the empty hearth. The glass shattered, the sound echoing in the silent room.

It was a start.

I turned to leave, but stopped when I heard voices from the hallway.

"Is she really going to pick Darrian Golden? That's insane," I heard Alaric's voice.

"She's just being difficult," Darrius replied. "She's always loved Alexander. She'll come to her senses."

I stepped back into the shadow of the doorway, listening.

"Alexander is getting impatient," Jefferey added, his voice low. "He wants this over with so he can get the Kidd real estate assets and finally set Isolde up properly."

My blood ran cold. It was happening all over again, just like before.

Alexander walked into their view. "Don't worry. Azalea is obsessed with me. A little tantrum won't change that. She'll pick me."

He saw me then, standing in the doorway. His face immediately changed, the cold ambition replaced by his usual charming smile.

"Azalea, darling. We were just talking about you."

I said nothing. I just looked at him, at all of them, the men I once thought were my world. Now, all I saw were walking corpses.

"Are you ready for your birthday?" Alexander asked, stepping closer. "Big decision to make."

Isolde appeared behind them, hiding slightly, her wide eyes feigning innocence. The same eyes that would watch me drown. She bumped into Alexander, a clumsy little move.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Booth!" she cried, stumbling.

He caught her, his hands holding her a little too long, a little too familiarly. "It's alright, Isolde."

It was a test. In my past life, I would have been furious. Now, I felt nothing. I just watched them, and my silence made them uncomfortable.

"Azalea, let's go for a walk by the pool," Alexander said. It wasn't a question.

We ended up by the rooftop pool. The four of them, and me. Isolde hovered nearby.

"What's this I hear about Darrian Golden?" Alexander asked, his tone light, but his eyes were hard. "Playing hard to get?"

I didn't answer. I just looked at the water.

Isolde, seeing her chance, "accidentally" tripped again, this time lurching towards the pool's edge, right next to me.

"Oh my!" she shrieked. She grabbed my arm, pulling me with her as she fell into the water.

The shock of the cold was familiar. "Help!" I thrashed, my dress pulling me down.

Through the water, I saw Alaric, Darrius, and Jefferey dive in. They swam right past me. They all went to Isolde.

"Isolde, are you okay?" Alexander's voice was filled with panic as he cradled her.

No one looked at me. I was sinking, the water filling my lungs. It was happening all over again. The memory and reality were blurring into one horrifying moment.

They were leaving me to die.

My last clear thought before the darkness threatened to take over was of Darrian Golden's face, twisted in grief.

This time, I would not let him grieve alone. This time, I would make them pay.